I call this one, “Full Moon On The Water On The Night My Mom Died.”

Here is a poem that comes from the funeral ceremony of the Zen tradition of which I am a part. It is called The Human Route Coming empty-handed, going empty-handed – that is human.When you are born, where do you come from?When you die, where do you go?Life is like a floating cloud which appears.Death Read more

So when my mom was dying, I’d go and visit her in the morning and then take a break and then go visit her in the afternoon again. One day, I was listening to Bonnie Raitt I Can’t Make You Love Me in the car on the way back to her hospital bed. I got Read more

Visiting my mom, she didn’t say much when I arrived. She seemed to want to doze. I got my computer out to pay her bills while she napped. Then I thought twice. I thought, before I go to bill paying, I’d ask if there was anything she needed to discuss. “Yes,” she said, suddenly alert. Read more